


Don't Say No

by Grinder1833



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Episode Tag, Episode: s10e07 Girls Girls Girls, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, M/M, Mark of Cain, Rimming, Season/Series 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 14:29:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2736032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grinder1833/pseuds/Grinder1833
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has some explaining to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Say No

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I don’t own these characters. They are property of “Supernatural," Warner Bros. Television and Kripke Enterprises.
> 
>  
> 
>  **A/N:** This is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own. Spoilers through S10E07 - Girls, Girls, Girls.

Dean kept stealing glances at Sam, half-expecting to see him sporting his patented bitch face, but he wasn’t. Sam seemed content sitting in the passenger’s seat of the Impala with his long fingers tapping against the window, keeping the beat with the Def Leppard tape that played. They were an hour from Lebanon— _home_ —and Sam hasn’t spoken too much. Dean expected some blowback—from what he’d told Cole, the dating site, or both. 

But nothing. Zilch. Nada. 

And Sam wasn’t giving him the silent treatment. There wasn’t an icy chill in the air. Sam seemed happy just being with Dean, heading home on a two-lane blacktop. This was what Dean always wanted—Sammy there on his right, safe and happy. 

Sam was happy, right?

Dean snuck another quick peek. At least he thought he was being sneaky until Sam looked over at him and cocked his head to one side in typical Sammy fashion.

“Everything okay, Dean?” 

Dean bit his lip. No everything wasn’t okay. Sam should be pissed at him about the dating site. He’s been waiting for that shoe to drop ever since his brother grabbed his phone at the steakhouse. Instead of being mad or jealous, Sam had let him walk out of the restaurant with Shaylene.

Okay…Sam wasn’t his boyfriend. Dean never gave him his ring and asked him to go steady. Ever since this relationship—if you will—started, they’d never been exclusive. Sam barely used his hall pass while Dean took advantage on more occasions. Sam never gave him a hard time when he hooked up with some random chick. He’d even insisted Dean go to Lisa after he did the Triple Lindy into Lucifer’s cage. But Dean knew those hookups bothered Sam. His brother tended to wear his heart on his sleeve.

Dean would be lying if he didn’t admit that although Sam’s extracurriculars were few and far between, he was jealous when it happened. Sammy was his. From the day Dad put him in his arms and said “Take your brother outside as fast as you can - don't look back. Now, Dean! Go!” Sam was his. He’d do anything for Sammy and has on too many occasions to count. Dean would never love and could never love anyone as deeply and unconditionally as his Sammy.

And how does he show Sam? He signed up for a dating site. It wasn’t to hurt him. No… _never_. It was— _complicated_. 

“I shouldn’t have done it,” Dean finally blurted out.

“Done what?”

“The…you know-” he gestured vaguely with his right hand, “thing. That dating thing. It was stupid and—”

“Your profile picture was hot.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah…it was, wasn’t it? You should've seen all the responses I got. The women were…” His smile faltered when he glanced over and saw Sam was finally sporting the bitch face he’d been expecting. Sam's arms where folded across his chest. Never a good sign. Dean swallowed. “Like I said—it was a stupid thing to do.”

“Then why did you do it? It’s not like you haven’t been getting laid. I thought we were good in that department.” Sam glanced out the passenger’s window. 

The urge to reach over and brush his fingers through Sam’s hair to try to soothe away the sting of his stupidity was intense. Instead, Dean planted his right hand firmly on the steering wheel and white-knuckled it. He didn’t want to admit that the Mark has been making him twitchy lately. The need for excess grew. Dean drank more whiskey, shot a monster a few more times than necessary, and needed more sex, which he didn’t want to ask Sam for because it would lead to more questions and scrutiny. 

“We’re awesome in that department, Sammy.” 

“So awesome you felt the need to start hooking up with women again,” Sam muttered.

“It’s not you,” Dean said, which made Sam scoff. “It’s the fucking Mark. There. I said it. Lately the damn thing keeps demanding to be fed and sex helps satisfy it.” 

Sam ran his hand over his face. “We agreed not to hide shit from each other.”

“Old habits die hard.”

“You need to tell me these things.” 

“Why? So you can worry about I’m about to go all dark side again?” 

“Are you?” Sam glanced at Dean. 

“No, I’m not. I’m good.” 

“Right, Impala67.” 

Dean sighed. “Okay, I deserved that one.” 

“Look, I have no right—”

Dean refused to sit there and listen to Sam apologize for giving a shit. His brother had nothing to be sorry about. This was all on him. “Yeah…you kinda do. After almost a year of shit, we’re finally in a pretty good place all things considered. I shoulda just let you scratch my itch.” 

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Does it still need scratching?” 

“Fuck yeah, it does.” Dean chuckled. “I didn’t get laid and I didn’t get to kill any evil sons of bitches or witches.” He shook his head. “Damn Rowena got away. I really hate witches.”

“We’ll catch up with her again.” 

Oh he knew they would. And Dean looked forward to being the one who took her out, whether it was with his gun or a knife, it didn’t matter. The bitch was going down. The Mark on his arm pulsed.

_Fuck._

“Dean?”

Dean shifted as he pressed down a bit harder on the accelerator. They really needed to get home. _Now._ He could pull the car over and beg Sammy to fuck him in the backseat or across the hood of the Impala. Either option sounded awesome at the moment. But his request would tip Sam off as to how close to the edge he teetered. Sammy couldn’t know. Dean didn’t want to worry him.

“’M good,” Dean breathed. “Just want you to get your gigantor hands all over me and your huge dick inside me.” 

Sam slid a little closer to Dean and planted his hand on Dean’s thigh. “You want it fast and hard?” 

Dean nodded. “Yeah.” 

Sam inches his fingers up Dean’s thigh. They were oh-so-close to his dick, which was rock hard. “I think I might have to rim you first though. Stick my tongue in your tight little hole—make you squirm and beg for a bit.” 

“What happened to hard and fast?” Dean tried to stay focused on the road. Thankfully, they’d passed a sign for Lebanon. Fifteen more minutes, maybe ten and Baby would be parked in the garage. And he’d be parked wherever Sam wanted his ass.

Sam ghosted his fingers over Dean’s erection. “Well…you did try to fuck some soul stealing skank,” he said in a honey sweet voice.

“But I didn’t.” 

“Only because she wanted you to pay with your soul.” 

“Slight technicality.”

“Don’t worry, Dean. You’ll be scratched, licked, and fucked when I’m through with you,” Sam purred.

_Almost home. Almost home. Almost home._

“Not worried. You’ll take good care of me—give me what I need.” 

Sam lifted his hand from Dean’s thigh. Before Dean could mourn the loss he felt Sam’s fingers rubbing the nape of his neck. This was good too. “Always.” 

********

Dean parked the Impala in the bunker’s garage ten minutes later. It took them a few minutes to make it into the library with duffels in hand. Then Dean was naked, flat on his back on one of the wooden tables—boots, socks, jeans, boxers, and shirts scattered across the floor thanks to Sammy’s eager hands. 

And now Sam traced his tongue along the outside of his hole, making good on his promise to have him squirming and begging. Well…for the most part. Dean squirmed, but there was no way in hell he would beg. Sam wasn’t going to get that sort of satisfaction from him. 

“Love tasting you,” Sam murmured. His breath hot was against Dean’s ass. “Mine.”

“Yes,” Dean hissed as a wave of pleasure rippled through him. Sam was quite talented with his tongue. Must be all that yapping he does. Sam dipped his tongue inside just enough to elicit a loud, throaty moan out of Dean. 

Dean was way too easy for his own good. And Sam knew this and used it to his advantage quite often. Dean pushed his hips forward in a not so subtle attempt to force Sam go deeper. He needed deep. The Mark demanded it. 

Sam slowly fucked him with his tongue. Sometimes he pushed in deep, other times he traced and licked his hole. Sam murmured a bunch of incoherent things. Dean could have sworn he might have heard the word _love_ a few times, but he could be delusional at this point. Sam’s tongue tended to have that effect on him.

Dean was so close and then Sam’s tongue was gone. Dean blinked up at the ceiling, willing himself not to beg. He could hear Sam rummaging through one of the duffels. Supplies. Yes…this was a good sign. Dean wished they didn’t have to stop to grab a condom, but it was on him that they needed one since he still indulged in the female persuasion from time to time. He needed to put a stop to that, because when it came down to it all he really needed was Sammy.

Dean heard the cap of the lube snap shut. And before he could say anything, Sam tugged his thighs so ass practically hung off the table. This wasn’t the first time one of the tables in the library had been used for sex. Dean’s had Sam bare-assed, bent over one of them, with his cheek pressed against the polished wood. Sam always loved it when Dean took him in their library. Must be a nerd thing. 

Dean has also been in this position—on his back, spread and wanting, ready for Sam. He opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a groan when Sam slid right inside him. The burn, the stretch—so fucking good. The Mark tingled. Sam hoisted Dean’s legs over his shoulders that allowed him to go impossibly deep.

_Yes…yes…yes…harddeepfast._

Sam had one hand planted on the table and the other wrapped around Dean’s leg as he thrust inside him. His dick slid over Dean's prostate each time. Dean had his fingers pressed so hard against the table, trying to get a grip that they were white at the tips. Both of them had their eyes open, locked together. Dean love watching Sammy fuck him. Needed to see it, because sometimes Dean still found it difficult to believe that _this_ was real. 

Panting, flesh meeting flesh, the faint squeak of the library table as it accommodated their heated sex—this was the only noise in the room. Besides the music in the Impala and the purr of his baby’s engine, these were some of Dean’s favorite sounds. They came from the two things Dean loved most in the world. 

“Sam.” Dean broke the spell. He was so close to coming and his dick hadn’t even been touched yet. 

Sam shifted his hips, drove into him harder, and tilted Dean’s world on its axis. _Holy fucking fuck_. Ropes of come splattered his stomach, chest, and neck as his body spasmed with one hell of an intense fucking orgasm. 

“ _Dean._ ” Sam perfect rhythm, stuttered as he climaxed and collapsed onto Dean’s sticky mess. 

They lay there for a few minute. Their breathing fell into perfect sync. Dean tangled his fingers into Sam’s sweat-damp hair. _Much better._ The Mark was reduced to a mild irritant—nothing Dean couldn’t handle.

Sam peered up at him. “Are you good?” 

“Awesome. A little messy, but awesome.” Dean sighed, closing his eyes. 

Sam gingerly pulled out of him. Dean was too busy riding on his blissed-out high to give a fuck. There was nothing like a post-Sammy sex afterglow. And he was on fire. Sam tied off the condom and tossed it into the trashcan in the corner of the room where it landed with a thud. He was lucky he didn’t miss, because Dean would have given him hell for messing up the floor.

“I’ll take care of the mess.” Sam lapped up a one of the trails of come that littered Dean’s stomach. 

Dean’s toes curled. _Fuck_ just when he thought it couldn’t get much better. All Dean could do was moan, because words had suddenly become foreign to him. Sam leisurely lapping up line after line of come was so fucking erotic. And the kiss that followed, which tasted of come and his sweat, was hot and dirty. It shouldn’t turn Dean on, but it did, making him horny even in his blissed-out state. Obviously, Dean had a kinky, deviant side given how much he gets off fucking his brother. But it wasn’t only about sex, Sam was everything to him. 

Sam followed up their down and dirty kiss with a peck to Dean’s forehead. “I need to get you to bed now,” Sam said as he tucked his limp dick back into his boxers and zipped up his jeans.

The image of Rhett Butler carrying a protesting Scarlett O’Hara upstairs flashed through Dean’s mind. One snowy afternoon in Colorado, Sam had forced him to watch _Gone With the Wind_ while their dad was out hunting some vengeful spirit. Sam was thirteen and had gotten his puppy dog eyes down cold by this point, so Dean watched the movie, which he ended up liking—not that he’d ever admit it to Sam. The vision of Scarlett and Rhett morphed into Sam and him. Sam swooping him up off the table and carrying him through the maze of halls that led to their bedroom.

_Oh hell no._

“”M not gonna let you carry me off to bed like some damsel,” Dean muttered. “I ain’t no Scarlett O’Hara.” 

Sam smirked. “Well…fiddle-de-de.” 

Dean was too fucked out to move. Maybe Sam would have to carry him after all.

“Come on.” 

Dean hauled himself up off the table and bent down to retrieve his clothes that were scattered across the floor. 

Sam paused in the doorway. “Just leave them.” 

“This isn’t the Hilton,” Dean reminded him. “There isn’t some maid who’s going to come around and clean up after us and leave a mint on the pillow.” Sam’s lackadaisical attitude toward housekeeping made Dean crazy at times. Dean didn’t want the bunker—their home—to look like a trashed frat house. 

“Were you this anal with Lisa? Because I don’t remember you being Felix Unger when we were with Dad.”

Dean didn’t see that one coming. He took a deep breath and picked up his boot. “Lisa was pretty neat. Ben had his moments.” Dean smiled faintly. “I think keeping the house clean and orderly was my way of having some control in my life. Watching you dive into that pit.” Dean bit his lip and cringed at the horrific memory. “I never felt so helpless.”

“Makes sense. Look, I care about our home too. And it should be a home, not some fucking museum. The world won’t end if your boxers are left on the floor of the library overnight. I just want to get you into bed.” 

Dean was thrilled Sam finally saw the bunker as home. Granted, it wasn’t a house with shutters and a picket fence, but it was theirs. The bunker was a place where they could hang their clothes in the closet and not live out of a duffel bag. They had their own rooms (not the they’ve been sleeping separately since Sam saved his ass). Dean could cook and Sam could putter around researching and discovering new kick ass rooms. They were part of something special.

Dean dropped the boot he was holding and joined Sam in the doorway. “Maverick, you big stud, take me to bed or lose me forever.” 

Laughing, Sam shook his head. “And you call me a geek?”

“I’m just savvy with pop culture references.” Dean swatted Sam’s ass and sauntered down the hallway, making sure that Sam got an eyeful. 

Dean’s room had basically become their room, although Sam kept most of his clothes in his bedroom since closet space hadn’t been a top priority for The Men of Letters. He stepped inside and headed toward the dresser to grab a pair of fresh boxers. 

“You’re not seriously going to put those on? Kinda seems like a waste.” 

Sam's logic made perfect sense. Dean would end up losing his underwear at some point during the night—probably sooner rather than later. And Dean wasn’t a big fan of laundry detail so he put them back into the drawer. One less thing to wash. But he wasn’t going to be the only one sleep au natural. Dean turned to him. “Then strip, big guy.” 

“Gladly.”

Sam unbuttoned his jeans while Dean crawled into bed and made himself comfortable. One of the perks of returning home was being able to sleep on his memory foam mattress. Dean sunk against it and sighed contently. Sam shut off the lights and joined him. He wrapped his naked body around Dean’s.

“Still good?” Sam’s breath was hot against Dean’s ear. He rubbed his thumb along the Mark. 

“Don’t.” Dean pulled his arm away from Sam. Usually he could tolerate Sam touching the Mark, but tonight it unnerved him. Maybe because it had been getting stronger lately. Dean didn’t want Sam near the tainted flesh. Didn’t want any of its darkness touching Sam.

“Why?” 

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam could never follow one of Dean’s orders. It was always “why.” Dean tried to unsuccessfully put some space between them, but Sam’s big paw kept him close. “It’s ugly.” 

Okay…that didn’t quite come out the way he’d planned. Dean buried his face into the pillow, hoping that sleep would miraculously take him so he didn’t have to have this conversation with Sam.

“Dean.” 

“Sam,” he mumbled into the pillow.

Sam rubbed Dean’s back. “Come on, talk to me. You know I’m not going to let this go.” 

No, he wouldn’t—stubborn-ass bastard. Dean rolled over so he was face to face with Sam who was propped up on his elbow, patiently waiting for an explanation. “This thing is bad. You’ve seen the darkness it can bring and I don’t want you near it. End of story.” 

“Well you made it my problem when you took the damn thing on. I told you we’d figure it out.” 

“We haven’t found anything yet.” 

“We’re not done looking.” Sam trailed his fingers along Dean’s bicep. “I’m not giving up. Are you?”

Dean knew deep in his gut that he probably wouldn’t live to see forty—not with his track record. In his thirty-five years he’s died more than 100 times, which was well past the nine lives a cat got. One of these days—probably soon—his death would stick. He prayed—scratch that—praying has only led to a heap of trouble. Dean _hoped_ he’d end up in his shared heaven with Sam where Sam would join him many years later after dying peacefully in his sleep when he was old and gray.

“I—”

Sam frowned. “You don’t. You’re giving up. You don’t think you can beat this.” 

_Fuck._ Dean had hesitated too long. “The odds don’t look good,” he quietly admitted.

“There’s an answer out there. We’ll find it. We just have to give it some more time. There are hundreds—maybe thousands of files and books to search through.” 

“If this thing starts to go south you need to promise me—” 

“No.” Sam gripped Dean’s bicep. His fingers sunk into the flesh. “There’s no fucking way that I’m going to kill you or let you die.” 

“Sammy.” 

“ _No._ ” The anguish in Sam’s voice cut Dean to the core. Seeing Sammy hurt always wounded Dean. “I’m not giving up on you. Don’t you dare give up on me, Dean!” 

“There might not be a choice.” 

“We always have a choice. The only game plan we follow is our own. We fucking stopped the Apocalypse together. _You and me._ ” Sam earnestly gazed into Dean’s eyes as he stroked his cheek. “Together. No one or nothing can stop us.” 

Dean pressed his forehead against Sam’s. “You might have to let me go.” 

“You die and I’ll put my gun in my mouth and pull the trigger,” Sam said with tear-filled eyes.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. No…no…no…Sammy wouldn’t do that—couldn’t do that. Sam could carry on without him. He was so fucking strong. “You can’t.” 

Sam cupped Dean’s face. “Dean, look at me.” Reluctantly Dean obeyed, opening his eyes to see a wrecked Sammy. “I can’t live without you. I fucking won’t do it.” 

“But you have lived without me. You can do it,” Dean pleaded. “You were happy with Amelia.”

“No, I wasn’t.” 

Dean sure as hell remembered it differently—Sam’s normal life with his non-demon girlfriend—the house, the job, a fucking dog. Sam was so happy he hadn’t bothered to search for Dean. He just wrote him off as dead. “You said you loved her.”

“I lied.” 

Dean didn't buy it. “No, you didn’t. You’re lying now.” 

“Dean, I was hanging on by a thread while I was with her. I missed you so fucking much.” 

“But you didn’t look for me.” Dean really hated rehashing old history, but facts were facts. Sam left Dean to rot while he had his apple pie life in Texas. 

Sam let go of Dean and rolled onto his back. “I didn’t know where to look. You just disappeared. I thought you were dead. Purgatory didn’t even cross my mind.” He sighed as he scrubbed his hand over his face. “We’ve been over all this, Dean.” 

“You’re right,” Dean relented. This horse had been beaten to death. 

Sam placed a tentative hand on Dean’s chest. “I wasn’t happy. All I could think about was you. If I’d been a hundred percent certain that you were in heaven I would have killed myself. I almost did a few times, but I kept worrying I’d get to heaven and you wouldn’t be there or I’d end up someplace worse and I’d never see you again.” 

“You could still be happy without me,” Dean whispered.

“No, I really couldn’t.” Sam snuggled closer and replaced his hand with his head on Dean’s chest. Dean carded his fingers through Sam’s hair, toying with the long strands while Sam spoke. “You don’t remember all of your deaths that the Trickster put me through. And then…after he let me out of the time loop…” Sam took a shuddering breath. “You died for real. I was without you for six months.” 

Dean’s hand stilled. “No, that’s impossible.” 

“Trust me, it is. I lived it and remember it clearly.” Sam placed a kiss on Dean’s chest. “All I could think about was getting revenge. It consumed me so much so that I was ready to risk killing Bobby, because I was certain that it was really the Trickster messing with me. I was right, but it could have easily gone the wrong way. I begged the Trickster to give you back to me, but before he did he told me that you’re my weakness and nothing good will ever come from our sacrifices for each other.”

“He was right.” Dean stared up at the ceiling. “We’ve been in this vicious loop ever since I sold my soul for you.” 

Sam pulled away from Dean and sat up. “So you’re just ready to give up now? After everything we’ve been through? You lied to me about telling Cole what he needed to hear after we promised we wouldn’t do that shit anymore. Dammit, Dean.” 

“I was only trying to avoid this.” Dean gestured between them. “I thought it would be easier—”

“If I just killed you? Found some nice girl to marry, have some kids?” 

Well…now that Sam said it aloud Dean’s plan didn’t sound so great after all. He squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know.” 

“I do.” Sam tweaked Dean’s nipple to get his attention. “You’re gonna hang on. If you need more sex then I’ll give you more sex, if you need a drink take one.”

“And if I need to kill?” 

Sam tensed. “We’ll figure it out.” 

“Because we’ve done such a good job of that so far.” 

Sam draped himself over Dean as tears threatened to fall. “I’m not giving up on you, Dean,” he choked out. “And you can’t give up either. You’ve gotta fight this. You’re strong. You can do it and I’ll be right here with you every step of the way.” Tears spilled down Sam’s cheek. “You and me against the world—just you and me.” 

There were times when Dean didn’t believe Sam loved him. Sometimes he had a difficult time believing that _anyone_ could love him—that he was worth loving. Dean believed Sam loved him now. Sam doesn’t have to say it, because he can see it in everything Sam does, especially in Sam’s tears.

Seeing Sammy cry broke Dean’s heart. Knowing he was the reason for those tears made it shatter. Dean didn’t doubt Sam would kill himself if he lost Dean this time. He couldn’t allow that to happen. Protecting Sam had always been his number one priority and it wasn’t about to change. Dean would fight the Mark.

“Okay.” Dean gathered Sam in his arms and hugged him tightly against his chest. “Okay, Sammy.” He kissed the top of his head. “I won’t give up.” 

Sam glanced up at him. His face was still wet with tears. “Me either.” 

Dean tried to thumb away the tears. “Sammy.”

Sam kissed his way down Dean’s body, murmuring “love you” after each kiss, until he reached Dean’s cock that was hard the moment Sam began bathing his body with kisses. When Sam teased the tip with his tongue, the Mark tingled along with the rest of his body. Sam wrapped his lips around Dean’s shaft. 

_Yesyesyesyes._

The Mark was satisfied.

At least for a little while.


End file.
